All language subtitles for benny_hill_ex06_show_story_2000

To millions of fans, he was the funniest
man in the world.

He really knew exactly what he wanted to
do. He was a master, a genius.

His childhood dream was to be the star
of the show.

It was a dream that became an obsession.

The work had always devoured him,
really.

And that's what he was. He was his work.

He wanted to be as famous as his comic
hero, Charlie Chaplin.

He did achieve his ambition, but what a
price he had to pay for it, because at

the end of the day, he gave up
everything and everybody for his

After more than 40 years in show
business, Benny Hill received the

Chaplin Award for Comedy at his hero's
Swiss home in 1991.

It was the crowning moment of his life.

After the ceremony, Chaplin's son Eugene
took Benny to his late

father's study.

He couldn't believe he was like in
heaven.

And I was looking around the room and I
went, hey, Ben, come here, look at this.

And there was his telly and there was
his armchair.

And I said, look, and the rack said,
Benny Hill, Benny Hill, Benny Hill,

Hill, Benny Hill. And he went, oh, my
God, a chaplain thought that much of me.

And Eugene said, my dad thought you were
the greatest.

In Southampton, a busy port on Britain's
south coast, Benny Hill was born on

January 21st, 1924.

Christened Alfred Hawthorne, he was the
second child of Helen and Alfred Hill.

His brother Leonard was two years older,
but it was to be nine years before his

sister Diane made the family complete.

Benny was his mother's favorite. They
shared a love of singing.

A quiet woman, she was the bedrock of
the family.

He was very fond of his mother.

He thought the world of her.

She, I suppose, sort of stood up for him
against his father when his father

became too domineering.

His mother was the biggest influence in
his life.

His father used to come out into the
front garden to do a bit of gardening

he always wore a beret.

That same beret which I saw later in
some of Benny's shows.

The Hills lived in an affluent suburb
north of the city.

Benny's father managed a shop that sold
surgical trusses and other medical

goods, including condoms, though they
were never mentioned by name.

Situated next to Southampton's docks,
the shop was very profitable.

There was a quite notorious pub nearby,
so I think perhaps it was the place

where you might find prostitutes if you
were looking for them. And it sold what

was then called rubber goods.

So it was a bit of a joke that that's
where his father was manager.

I think the shop did quite well.

Benny's blood was touched by the big
top. His father and uncle had both been

clowns, but Alfred Senior was so strict
his sons called him the captain.

His father had originally been with the
circus before the First War.

And then he joined up in the First War
and was taken prisoner by the Germans

spent a couple of years in German prison
camps.

And whenever Benny or any of them
complained about the food, he would

the wonderful food they were having with
what he'd had in a German prison camp.

At 11, Benny won a scholarship to a
local school.

Not very athletic, he excelled at art,
but was not really academically minded.

Content with his own company, Benny was
something of an enigma to his

classmates. He did live to a certain
extent in his own little world, even

And that's why perhaps none of the other
boys in the class really ever knew him.

Despite his reserve, his mother
encouraged him to join a musical group.

Benny played guitar and told jokes which
he'd quietly try out first on his

school friends.

He would sidle up to you and stand very
close to you.

Sometimes he might put his arm around
you.

And he'd tell you perhaps the latest
smutty story.

He'd sometimes have pictures of girls.

They were often glamorous girls.

Those were not the girls we were. I
mean, the other boys in the class were

interested in girls in the flesh,
whereas he seemed to be more interested

pictures of girls.

It was the glamour, perhaps, which
interested him.

Glamour to Benny meant show business.

His family had always taken him to
Southampton's theatres, where he was

entranced by the touring reviews.

It was a glimpse into a world he wanted
to join.

He said, when I was a kid, my dad used
to take me to the variety theatres all

the time, and you'd see a touring revue,
and you'd see a foldy rolls type thing.

He said, and there was this little sort
of chubby guy with a funny hat on,

surrounded by beautiful girls, and
making everybody in the audience laugh

clap. And he said, even as a kid, I
said, I want to be that man.

It was the dream Benny pursued all his
life.

When World War II broke out in 1939,
Benny's school was evacuated, and a year

later he dropped out. At 15, and without
qualifications of any kind for a job,

he started out delivering milk, and then
found work in a local Woolworth's

store. He was surrounded by 26 shop
girls, but he couldn't impress them with

new job.

He was a trainee manager, but as you
said, it was mostly, they'd say...

that the dog had done something over
there by the perfumery, would you come

pick it? He'd go with a shovel and pick
it up, you know.

He was learning to be a manager from the
bottom upwards, you could say.

At 17, Benny sold his guitar and left
his hometown to pursue his dream.

He set out for London and slept in an
air raid shelter for lack of funds

taking his first steps into the world of
show business.

He became a prop boy and assistant stage
manager with a touring review.

One night, the straight man didn't turn
up.

He was probably in the pub or something
and forgot to come out.

And Benny volunteered off his own back
to go on and play the part of a straight

man for the comic.

And the comic thanked him and said, that
was very good, you know, I think you

should stay in the business or something
like that.

His fledgling career ground to a halt
when he was drafted in 1942.

The army trained him to be a mechanic,
but as the war ended, he saw an

opportunity to get back on stage, and he
transferred to the army's

entertainments division, where his saucy
humor went down well.

One night in Germany, the colonel in
charge of forces entertainment came to

the show.

Benny was in a stars in battle dress
party. He was actually the second comic

the driver of the lorry.

And I went to a little tiny...

beautiful little theatre, Schloss
Theatre in Cella, and the local

officer had said that Benny was not to
do his act because he didn't think he

funny. But the sergeant in charge,
another comic, said, I think you'd

it tonight because the colonel's in
front.

I thought he was very funny, so I went
round to see him and I said, listen, you

and I are not going to be in the army
forever.

I'm going to be an agent, I expect
you're going to be a comedian.

You'd better come and see me when you
come out of the army.

By the time he was signed up by Colonel
Stone, Alf Hill became Benny Hill after

the popular comedian Jack Benny.

I sent Benny to audition, and Peter
Sellers was at the audition, and I think

beat Peter Sellers to the job, and he
went down to Margit to feed Reg Varney.

Reg Varney was one of Britain's top
variety comedians. He needed a new

After our first performance, I thought,

This is going to be good, you know.

But I didn't realise how good he was
going to be until we'd been together for

quite a few weeks.

And we had this rapport which was
uncanny, but he was so quick, it wasn't

and he was a brilliant writer.

For three seasons, their partnership
blossomed, but Benny's ambition was to

the star of the show like Reg.

When he got the chance, he found the
stage to be a very lonely place.

Strange thing, when he was feeding me,
playing characters, he was fantastic.

Brilliant, to say the least.

But as soon as he went on to do his own
act, to be himself, no good.

No good whatsoever.

The public didn't like him.

Then he got less laughs the farther
north he travelled.

It was a famous graveyard for London
comics.

He persevered, but his lack of success
made him ill.

Reg passed on advice to help his partner
get over his stage fright.

I went to this fellow who taught me how
to relax and showed me what to do.

And I was telling Benny, I said, it's
marvellous. I said,

he said, well, he said, he said, it's
not that, he said, I can't sleep either

night. I said, well, you won't do,
because you're worried about...

the performance and and i showed him
what to do and told him what to do

and uh in the morning at breakfast i
said how'd you get on with the relaxing

then ben he said yeah he said i tried he
said after a while when it wasn't

working i turned over and went to sleep
i used to dread playing up north i

really did it was uh you used to
frighten me to death i have to go up

don't know why it was my fault or what
but i never seem to click Playing at

North.

It was at a theatre in the north of
England that Benny starred with Reg

for the last time.

I'm in the dressing room and I thought,
he's going well.

And he's getting clapped and, you know,
but when I listened, it was all

together.

And I'd never heard the slow hand clap
before in all my life, you see.

And it's a terrifying thing to hear.

When he came off, it was ill, very ill,
I think.

And the manager came in, he said, he
said, you've got a rotten act.

And he said, well, what shall I do?

Mr. Charlie said, he said, get off as
quick as you can.

With the loss of his solo act, Benny
left the tour. He was disheartened but

still determined.

He came back and sat in his garden.

in his mother's house in Southampton.

And he sat there for two or three
months, I think. It was a beautiful

And he wrote hundreds of sketches.

And he took them up to Ronnie Warmer at
the BBC.

And he said, there, Mr Warmer, look at
that.

And I think you'll find there's some
good stuff there.

And he said, I'm guaranteed.

And Ronnie Warmer looked at them, and
that's where he got the job, on

television.

Benny had the break he'd been looking
for.

By 1954, Benny Hill was Britain's best
-loved comic.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the
Benny Hill Show.

The shy 30 -year -old with a risque
sense of humor was his country's

He wanted to get on television very
badly.

And when he got on, he became the first
English comedian to be made by

television because all the other
comedians before him had been made by

I owe pretty well everything to
television.

It's given me great opportunities
outside television.

It's given me the chance to appear in a
West End show.

I've done my first film.

And, well, it's done one thing for me
that I'm very grateful to television

and that is that it's given me a lot of
friends in the north of England.

Before he became a TV star, Benny
remembered that he had died a terrible

with his solo act in the theatre in the
north of England.

My agent said, you're going to play this
theatre again, you know, but you'll be

topping the bill this time. And I said,
I'm not going up there anymore.

He talked me into it and I went up there
and went on the Monday night and they

were really fabulous. They were the most
wonderful audience I've ever played to.

I thought they were kidding at first.
They were taking the mic out of me.

Here we have the barbell, sir. There we
have the weight.

That's for getting your weight down.
Television, not the stage, was Benny's

home. Get the camera on that. Look at
that. Look at that.

Is it on?

Yes. Cool.

His characters, like Fred Scuttle,
sprang to life.

All the subtleties that had been lost in
the theater from the fourth row back

were picked up by the camera.

I told you to wear a vest when you used
these, didn't I?

I think his tradition, you know, was
more American than English. I

think he followed in the tradition of
American burlesque.

As you can see, Benjamin's wearing a new
broad shoulder look.

He was very unusual as a comedian, even
in those days, you know, because...

He wasn't the ordinary stand -up
comedian with the jokes.

It's an all -purpose jacket suitable for
the smoker.

Or equally suitable for the non -smoker.

It was also Benny's attention to detail
that made him TV's golden boy. He found

new ways to use the new medium that
delighted his audience.

He was a great innovator in the early,
early days of television. And he was the

first person to do three characters in
one scene, or it was four, I think, when

he did Jukebox Jury.

And he knew you could do it on a split
screen because he knew if you filmed it,

you could, in those days, put a bit of
card over it, film it, put a bit of

and then put the whole thing together.
So there were four Bennys on a screen.

Then he worked hard at making his humor
look effortless.

He brought new life to old material with
his sharp observations that found the

audience laughing at itself.

Would you describe yourself as an angry
young man?

No, I don't think so, no.

I am.

He teamed up with budding writer Dave
Freeman.

What makes you angry?

Oh, I thought you said hungry.

For ten years, they collaborated, living
in each other's pockets. It was the

only time in Benny's life that he shared
the burden of originating his comedy.

There was nothing affected about him. He
was very down -to -earth.

He was like the chap who might work on
the next bench in the factory.

But he was a craftsman. Benny had
perfect pitch in music and a way with

In 1961, this song reached the top 20.

I went to view a lady's house, she
handed me the key.

She said it's to be let as it stands
with all that you can see.

I said, are you to be let with the house
in a very softy tone?

She said, I'm not to be let with the
house, I'm to be let alone.

Benny's many faces and suggestive eyes
were made for TV.

Oh, we know it's right, it's in black
and white, and it's all written down in

diary.

Show business was his entire life. That
was really all he thought about. It

obsessed him, and he thought about it
early morning till late at night.

He had very few hobbies. He didn't read
much.

He'd go and see films and he'd go and
see shows, but always with an idea of

whether they would inspire him into
doing something.

The gorgeous women from his childhood
dream were on the screen to see, but

in life did not mean lucky in love.

On his first tour with Reg Varney, Benny
met Elizabeth English, an actress from

the theatre next door.

She remembers him, he had beautiful
hair, thick blonde hair, and lots and

of scripts, always under his arm, piles
and piles of scripts.

But it was a dancer from her show that
Benny fell in love with. One night he

proposed marriage, but was turned down.

He was very upset and tried to get a
message through via my mother to this

and it didn't work out. So my mother
took him for a cup of tea and fish and

chips or egg and chips to cheer him up.

But he was very sweet and very
sensitive, very sensitive young man.

To the outside world, Benny was the
funniest man. It was a role he played to

perfection.

Turning out to promote his first movie,
which was followed by five more, he

delighted his fans.

But the real Benny was always happiest
away from the celebrity spotlight.

Self -taught and fluent in four
languages, he spent months abroad, often

Europe's fiestas, theatres and circuses,
looking for new material for his shows.

All his life, he travelled alone.

Comedy was to be his only mistress.

He hated responsibility, and I think he
hated it because he felt it distracted

him from work.

He thought he couldn't be thinking of a
show or what he was doing if he had to

worry about the plumbing in a house that
he owned or the roof leaking, and so he

always rented accommodation so somebody
else could look after that.

He wouldn't have a car because he felt
cars went wrong and you had to take them

to the garage or somebody gave you a
parking ticket, and that would distract

him.

Comedy had made Benny rich.

but he had no use for the trappings of
success.

Benny kept everything as long as it
worked, be it a telephone or a 20 -year

pair of shoes.

Generous to friends in need, he was
austere with himself.

He never spent anything, and in fact he
was rather suspicious about money. He

was suspicious.

I can remember we put him with our
accountants, one of the biggest

firms in London.

And because the managing director of
this huge international accountancy firm

went racing on a Saturday afternoon,
Benny was very worried that he was

his money at the races and that he'd
lose it all.

His idea of money had frozen around
about 1950, so that he thought to pay a

pound for tin of salmon was exorbitant.

But... To give £500 to somebody who was
in trouble didn't exist, you know. He

didn't think above about £10 a week.
That was a different form of currency.

He lived in a sort of dual state of
currency.

In 1969, Benny signed a deal with Thames
Television, which was to bring him more

money and fame than he had ever dreamt
of.

You can hear...

In 1971, Benny Hill recorded a song
about a milkman, a job he had held 30

earlier on leaving school.

It shot to number one. His name was
Ernie, and he drove the fastest milk

the West.

Now Ernie loved the widow.

A lady known as Sue. She lived all alone
in Lindley Lane at number 22.

Benny was now a multi -millionaire. Each
year, he made three or four shows,

which he wrote, cast, and oversaw in
every detail. His life was devoted to

comedy. And he drove the fastest milk
cart in the West. He used to watch

television 24 hours a day.

24 hours a day, and tape it when he went
to bed.

It sounds odd to any other human being,
but his life was television, and his

life was watching things, and it would
always spark off some writing in him.

Benny's show consumed his life. He
watched the world, noting everything.

Silent movies, TV, circus clowns and
everyone around him were his

His eyes were everywhere and he saw
things in people just doing ordinary

everyday things at a bus stop that he'd
write down and they would go into a

sketch. If he was at a cafe or if he was
walking up the high street, he'd have a

newspaper with him and it would be blue
with ink by the time he came back.

When he was travelling, Benny sent his
scripts back to the studio on anything

that came to hand.

You know one of those bits of cardboard
you get when you get your shirt back

from the cleaners or whatever?

And this arrived in an envelope from
Madrid or somewhere like this.

And we were reading it and I went, that
looks like bloody glate, something or

the other.

And we studied this all day long and
suddenly we went, of course, he's a

Chinaman, a stupid idiot. Why are you no
written?

And that's the kind of thing we used to
get on bits of anything, backs of

envelopes, you name it. That's how Ben's
script arrived from all over the world.

You've just arrived, sir.

I got a fright.

How did you get a fright?

With a fright ticket.

A fright, yes.

It was a miracle.

What was a miracle?

We take off with a miracle.

You took off from a miracle?

United States of America.

America.

Bloody trick.

His shows took three months to rehearse
and record at Thames Television's

Riverside Studios.

Benny originated everything from the
size and color of the props to the tunes

would hum note by note for his musical
director to transcribe.

Benny was a perfectionist to the point
of not being a very likeable person

because he was so concerned about the
props and the costumes and the scenery

everything that he never lost his
temper, but he used to get very tense

would hum, pick his nails, always
picking his nails and humming.

And he always used to hum, if it takes
forever.

Always shy of strangers, Benny formed a
trusted troupe of players.

Henry McGee, Bob Todd, Jackie Wright
were his unlikely leading men, and there

were lots of glamorous girls.

If he was rehearsing something in the
big studio number one, and somebody

come and sit.

in the audience and they'd be in his
eyeline and he didn't know who they

he'd have to stop the rehearsal and go
up to whoever it was, someone from the

council or something had come down to
watch and have to apologise and say, I'm

terribly sorry, please forgive me, but I
really can't do this if you're actually

in my eyeline. He couldn't bear anyone
actually being in the studio that he

didn't know.

So the cameramen, the wardrobe crew,
everybody became like a family to him,

he could do anything, he could try
anything out of in front of them because

knew them.

Away from his professional family, he
lived alone in a rented apartment in

Queensgate, an exclusive part of London.

For 20 years, it was his refuge from the
world that only a chosen few could

enter. My main job all through his
career was to go out every time he

I went out to the studio, watch the run
-through, give him a few notes.

watch the show, and then go back to his
dressing room, help him put all his

props into his plastic bags, get into my
car.

I drove him back to his house in
Queensgate, and not once in 20 years did

ever ask me to get out of the car and
come up and have a cup of coffee.

Benny didn't live like other
celebrities.

He disliked showbiz parties and hated
any display of wealth. To his friends,

lifestyle was frugal and uncompromising.

All there was, there was a little
settee, and it was a plasticky sort of

and there was an awful coffee table
there, and a telly, which was black and

white telly there.

And I went, is this it?

He went, yeah, this is it. And he lives
there.

He's got his telly, he's got his cup of
tea, he's got a pencil and a piece of

paper. What more is there on this earth?

I said, what's that up there? And he
said, oh, it's a room up there. I said,

well, let me have a look around the
flat.

And we went into this fantastic...

Fantastic, huge room.

And I went, my word, don't you use this?
And it was sort of almost like a damp

field to it. And he went, no, no, no,
never go in there.

And I went, that's crazy.

And so he used to always live down
there. That's where the telly was.

There were no pictures on the wall.

There were no books, actually.

There was nothing.

I looked around and there was a, in the
shadows of the room, there was a

fireplace with a mantelpiece.

And I could see some things on that.

And I went over and there were about, 20
or 30 objects on it.

And they were all awards.

Every one was awards.

But they weren't arranged in any
particular fashion. I mean, some of them

lying on their backsides.

That would be planned. They were just
sort of plopped. There they were.

And he came into the room and I said, my
goodness, you've got a lot of awards

there. He said, oh, there's a cupboard
over there full of them.

He didn't mean anything to him.

Benny's obsession with work was only
interrupted by his other obsession,

We had a dozen fish fingers each and
some peas and a cup of coffee. Now, I

fish fingers, but I mean, this was the
sort of diet he lived. I mean, it was a

diet of a bachelor, of course, and this
is what he ate.

Benny couldn't control his weight.

He bought his food daily to try to limit
his appetite.

But his waistline always fluctuated.

He tried out many diets, especially at
the start of filming.

Sometimes when we were filming, he used
to be very, very odd first thing in the

morning. Rather stern and very fast,
working very quickly. And everything,

nothing was... And it took me a long
time to realise he was taking a dietary

tablet which was like speed.

And this man, this lunatic, was hurtling
around, being rather stoppy, and not

having breakfast, not all of that. It
was to stop him eating.

And then slowly throughout the day, he'd
come down to being our Ben again.

Benny's youthful dream of fame and
fortune had come true, but at a price.

He had millions of fans and millions of
dollars, and yet he remained an enigma

to the world.

By 1974, Benny Hill was at the top of
his profession in Britain.

Adored by his fans and with more awards
than he could count, he was a star. His

childhood dream had been achieved.

I remember his 50th birthday.

He said to me, we were rehearsing, he
said, you know, I'm 50.

And he said, I've had a good life.

He said, it's been great fun and it's
been a good life.

And he said, to tell you the truth, he
said, I wouldn't mind if I went

And I think he meant it. The
extraordinary thing about this was that

before the great glory days.

Before glory came grief.

His mother, always his favorite lady,
was dying.

Benny nursed her until her death in
February of 1976.

Four years earlier, his irascible father
had also died.

His sister lived thousands of miles away
in Australia, and he was estranged from

his elder brother. Apart from his
cousin, all his intimate friends were in

professional family.

As he got older, family became more
important, and when 16 -year -old Louise

English joined the show, Benny welcomed
her like a daughter.

I think he loved me as much as I loved
him. He didn't like me smoking a

cigarette. I wasn't allowed to do that.
If I had a boyfriend, he wanted to meet

him.

So he was actually probably more strict
with me than I think my father would

have been with me.

By the late 1970s, there were more
scantily clad dancers than ever, and the

humour seemed cruder, less witty.

His public became polarised in their
opinions.

Benny faced mounting criticism.

Totally sexist. Because it's completely
and utterly anti -men.

I mean, look at them. Little Jackie
Wright, Bob Todd, Benny, Henry. I mean,

boys are back in town, aren't they? In
the show, Benny always lost and the

always won. Now that is sexist.

Benny's risque humour was ridiculed by
the new breed of alternative comedians

who called him old -fashioned.

But he felt he still knew what made
people laugh.

I think very often the English public
did take his funny sketches the wrong

but you've got to see them from a young
boy's point of view.

He was, you know, a man in his 50s.

He had the mind of a 5 or a 10 -year
-old.

He never, ever wanted to come across at
all as a dirty old man or a lecherous

man at all when anybody met Benny.

They were surprised at his manners.

I think everyone used to go up to Benny
and say, Oh, hello, mate. Oh, how's the

girls? Oh, nudge, nudge, wink, wink. And
he's sort of in a suit with glasses on,

and such a gentleman. They get quite a
shock.

Benny decided to introduce a touch of
innocence to his shows.

He wrote sketches that included
children, but he didn't want stage

youngsters. He chose instead the sons
and daughters of his professional

Ben was like a relative to me. He was
Uncle Ben. I mean, we called him Uncle

Benny.

He was like the sort of friendly uncle
that comes and takes you out and plays

with you and buys you things. He was
always buying us stuff, sort of

gifts on us and always chocolate and
sweets and cakes. And we did just have a

great time with him.

Sue Upton's children were extra lucky.

Their Uncle Benny came to stay for a
week each year.

Taking them to the seaside and to theme
parks, Benny played at having the family

he had never had.

He used to call me Mother, which is
quite a strange thing. I don't think

very occasionally would he actually ever
call me Sue.

And he'd say, come on then, Mummy, where
shall we go now? Where are the

littlies? And I can just imagine that
that is exactly how Benny would have

always been.

It was just lovely to see him.

to see the true Benny being a family
man.

Almost, I became his wife for that week,
if you like.

And he used to say to me, I don't think
I could ever find a woman that would

actually put up with me now. He said,
because I'm so set in my ways.

He'd like nothing more than to sit out
in the garden with a couple of beers,

he'd say, this is jolly pleasant here.

I can think of nothing nicer.

Then, of course, lying on a beach in the
south of France, he said, but then I

wouldn't have the company, would I?

At the end of his stay, Sue would drive
Benny to catch the train to Felixstowe,

a seaside town where another lady had
his company for the following week.

He had visited Phoebe King annually
since the 1950s.

She was confined to a wheelchair with
cerebral palsy, but the two of them

enjoyed the same simple pleasures.

We sit there and look at the sea and
talk and have a joke and a laugh.

And then somebody would run up, can I
have your autograph, Mr Hill?

And look at me, wondering who I was.

One girl said, is that your sister?

No, he said my girlfriend.

Oh,

he felt homely with me.

He didn't have to put on airs. He could
be himself with me.

You've got to love him and his work.

But I loved him, I loved his work and
him as well, so I got on all right.

If you met anybody of his public, then
he was Benny Hill.

But I got Alfred Althorne Hill, the
quiet gentleman.

Only Benny's closest friends knew about
Phoebe and another handicapped friend,

Netta. They were his secret.

In his lifetime, he was a friend to
many, but unknown to most.

Half a world away, Benny was becoming
TV's hottest property at the ripe old

of 55, as his shows became cult viewing
across America.

I've often called it adult animation.

It was a slapstick humor. It was an
international humor that we all

what Benny's doing and where he's coming
from.

Good evening. Here's the newsflash.

I don't know of a live light
entertainment comedy

show, whether it's from here.

Or the UK or anywhere that has had the
success that that show has had.

They made an enormous fuss of him. And
it gradually dawned upon me, it seems

strange that it should take so long to
have any doubts at all.

But then he gradually realized that he
was successful.

And I think this gave him a more
comfortable confidence in

himself.

By 1989, the Benny Hill Show could be
seen in over 140 countries. More people

had laughed with him than his comic
hero, Charlie Chaplin.

By 1989, the Benny Hill Show was a
worldwide phenomenon.

His employer of over 20 years, Thames
Television, called him the world's most

successful comedian and the genius, as
they pocketed the millions from sales to

over 140 countries.

On the 1st of May, they broadcast his
latest show.

Three weeks later, they fired him.

Ten o 'clock one morning, we went into
the outer office, and John came out and

said, oh, do you mind if I have a word
with Ben? I said, no, not at all. They

went in, and about a minute later, John
came out, and I went in, and Ben was

sitting in the corner, ashen.

And I just said, hiya, how are you? It's
fine.

And John was sort of making small talk,
and Ben said, you can tell him, you

know, he's a big grown -up lad.

And I said, what's the problem? He said,
I don't want to do any more Benny

Hills. And that was it.

Ben was, I mean, he was murdered.

They'd taken away his child. It's like
losing your own child. That's how much

the show meant to him.

He was heartbroken, and it absolutely
destroyed him. They just said that he

the jewel in their crown, and then they
just sacked him like a schoolboy.

Quite, quite disgraceful.

After nearly 40 years at the top, there
was suddenly nothing.

An unemployed superstar, Benny returned
alone to the apartment he had rented to

be near his beloved studios.

The devastation was so unbelievable, I
don't think even crying could actually

get the frustration and the upset out
from his whole system.

I think it totally destroyed part of
him. I'm sure it did.

With no show to write or to diet for,
Benny's weight ballooned. Age was

up with him.

Then Don Taffner threw him a lifeline.

I came over. I couldn't imagine because
he was so successful worldwide.

And that's what I hope I can say this. I
was so pissed off that I said, OK,

well, let's do our own show. We don't
need him.

It was a B -12 shot. It helped him come
around.

And besides.

making a few dollars on it, it was good
for him and everyone around it that

here's a guy that was so successful and
somebody did a horrible thing to him and

we're helping him come back to life, so
to speak.

Though shot on location in New York,
Benny returned to Thames Studios to

his sketches with his trusted cast and
crew.

It was going to be the first of a whole
new series, but it became a one -time

special.

By the time another British broadcaster
started negotiations for a new series,

Benny had been eating and drinking
unchecked for two years and his health

suffered.

Following a heart attack, he was
hospitalized with breathing

He booked under the name of Mr. Martini.

And I said, why did you call yourself
Mr. Martini? He said, well, any time,

place, anywhere.

Which made me laugh.

He didn't want me to go and see him in
hospital.

He didn't want anyone to see him. He
wanted to keep himself to himself, but

was very ill and didn't tell anyone how
ill he really was.

Leaving the hospital, Benny wanted to
finalise his forthcoming shows. He also

was determined to see Louise English,
now starring in a West End play.

The theatre's very hot. It's full.

You might find a little bit too much of
you. No, no, I want to be there. I want

to be there. And I want you to arrange a
photographer.

to take a photograph of us together,
which is something he'd never, ever

I thought that was very odd.

And it was a very, very happy day. And
he came to see the matinee.

And I remember his face looking up at
me. And he had little tears.

And then he came to the dressing room
afterwards.

And he stayed and he stayed.

And he wouldn't go. He just wouldn't
leave.

And he kept sort of mentioning lovely
things to me.

Very sensitive things, and it's almost
like he knew.

Benny went home to his Thameside
apartment, but when he didn't answer the

for three days and his neighbours heard
his television constantly on, his friend

Dennis Kirkland climbed a ladder to gain
entrance to Benny's third -floor

apartment.

And then I got to the top, like so, and
I could see him sitting there with his

lovely hair all stuck up like that and
the TV on, and it was... quite evident

was he was dead and um i crawled onto
the balcony and i could see him through

the window and um he just looked oh so
sad and his beautiful

hair stuck up and the guy opened the
window their kitchen window there next

ben's balcony and he said would you like
a drink and i said just give me the

bottle you know then the police arrived
and um they broke the door in and then

they let me into the kitchen window and
and I won't tell you what it's like when

you discover a body that's been there
for a couple of days, but they wouldn't

let me touch anything.

And I said, please, you've got to let me
straighten his hair.

And they said, okay.

And his lovely hair was stuck up, so I
smoothed it all down for him, and he was

okay. He was okay, and that was it.

Benny was 68.

On the table beside his body, amongst
many papers, was the contract for his

series just waiting for his signature.

He was quite prepared in the last seven
or eight years of his life, you know, to

go at any time. He felt he'd fulfilled
every ambition. He'd become a big star

America. He was known all over the
world. What more was there to do, you

Then he was buried next to his parents
in his hometown of Southampton.

He died a comedic legend.

like his hero, Charlie Chaplin.

He somehow managed to hit a common
thread of humor in people, this

universal funny bone, which very few
people have ever been able to do.

He entertains people, and he will always
entertain people.

And what he has left is just pure
laughter for everyone.

Thank you.